Who He Is
by chrissel
Summary: After being left in Pete's world, 10.5 wants Rose to be sure she is seeing him, not *him*. One way to show that is just how much freer 10.5 is with his feelings.


"Right, you two. Rose, show 'im to a spare room upstairs. Whichever one 'e wants. And make sure you give 'im some towels. We're all filthy after that trip. I'm going up and check on Tony, then getting a quick shower and off to bed."

They'd been travelling for nearly 24 hours straight, the transportation options from Darlig Ulv Stranden leaving something to be desired. There'd been a ride in the back of a farmer's truck into Bergen, a painfully long bus ride to the nearest airport, then a fourteen hour wait for the next flight to Heathrow. He hadn't let go of Rose's hand the entire time, though whether that was by his choice or hers was debatable. They clung to each other with a ferocity that made Jackie look at them funny once or twice, but they actually said very little during the trip.

By the time they reached Pete's mansion in the London countryside, they were all exhausted.

Rose watched her mother walk up the stairs and disappear down the hallway toward Tony's nursery then she turned to him and inclined her head up the stairs. He nodded, and they started up the stairs. When they got to the top, Rose stopped at the third door on the left. She looked up into his eyes and he could see her fighting over what to say.

She finally blurted out, "Do you need to have one of the spare rooms?"

He looked at her, then looked away and said quietly, "Yes."

She looked down. "'Course. Sorry." And she walked a few more feet and opened the next door for him. She let him walk in, then walked down the hall a little ways and opened the door to a massive linen closet. Picking up a handful of linen, she walked into the room she had given him.

"Here we go. Towels. Face flannels. The en-suite is right through there." Indicating a closed door to her left. "You'll share with me." Uncomfortable laugh here. " — hope that's okay. Should have most of the basics in there already. You know soap, shampoo. Think there's even a spare toothbrush-"

She stopped short as he walked up to her quicky. She backed up as he kept moving toward her, until her back was up against the wall.

He didn't say anything, just stood there, close, so close, looking into her eyes. Then he slowly dipped his face toward hers. She let her eyes flutter shut as his lips brushed hers, first tentatively, then with more pressure. Her heart beat faster as she returned the kiss. After a few seconds, she felt him run his tongue along her lower lip and she opened her mouth with a sigh. He took full advantage — sliding his tongue into her mouth and tasting her — moving from one corner to the next. She kissed him back with a passion she barely recognized.

He pressed his body against her and she could feel a fire stirring deep inside. Something she thought only happened in badly written love stories. His leg moved in between hers and she opened her legs wider, allowing him to move even closer against her.

His mouth moved from hers and started planting rough kisses along her jaw, up to her ear. He took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked while running his hands up and down her sides. She groaned at the pleasure and she could feel the wetness begin to pool between her legs. Oh God. Was this really happening? How did she get here? His mouth left her ear and he started licking and sucking his way down her neck to her shoulder and gently scraped her with his teeth then sucked on the area.

He lifted his head and placed his mouth right by her ear as he let his hands trail over her stomach, heading up, up, up and stopping with his right hand on top of her left breast. As he started whispering in her ear, he softly rubbed circles against her hardening nipple with his thumb. She felt a shock like electricity run straight through her.

"Don't ever doubt that I want you, Rose." He pressed against her harder so she could feel his erection and know exactly how much he wanted her. He was certainly human in that respect.

"Trust me. I want. But when we make love, and we will, I want you to be with ME. Not him. Right now, I'm still him. I need time. We need time. And time is something we have, now. With every day that passes, I'll become different from him. When you look at me and see me, not him — that's when we'll be ready."

He pulled his head back and looked at her again. She could see the desire in his eyes, almost overwhelming him, but he still held back.

"In the meantime," he said, licking his lips, "if it's okay with you, we can still do this much." And he took her mouth again with his own. She groaned and reached her hands up to pull his head closer in assent. Their bodies pushed together in need. Rose felt her nipples tighten as she pressed her chest against his. Once again his kiss took her breath away. As the kiss ended, he moved back. She fel t bereft once he was no longer touching her, as if someone had amputated some essential part of her. She was dazed, hot and confused by the kiss and tired from the journey.

She looked at him standing there, half tempted to push him back onto the bed, his identity concerns be damned. But then she saw that dark look on his face. The look that said it was killing him to be this strong. And in the end she couldn't bear to make this any harder on him than it already was. He had a point, after all. Who was he right now? If a man is defined by his experiences, then he was still the Doctor. When she kissed him, she was kissing both of them. He deserved better. He deserved to be seen as his own person. Everyone did.

She gave him an understanding smile and touched the side of his face. "Sleep well, then." She turned to walk through the en-suite to her own room. She had just gotten through the door into her bedroom when she heard him.

"Rose?"

She stopped and turned to see he had followed her, just like the Doctor she remembered — quiet as a cat when he wanted to be. He stood just inside the room. His eyes were so dark; his naked desire evident on his face. He bent his head to whisper in her ear. "Rose Tyler, when I do make love to you, I just want you to know… I'm going to make you scream." He gave her a look that melted her spine and then closed the door.

*************

She lay on her bed, wearing nothing but a short cotton nightie and cursed him. She was exhausted. She wanted desperately to fall asleep. But every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was his face after he whispered those last words of his. She squirmed on the bed, knowing there was only one way to finish this tonight. But just how human was he? The Time Lord him could tell when she was on her menses just by the smell of the hormones in the air near her. If he still had any of those extra senses, he'd know in an instant what she was planning to do. To hell with it, she thought. Let him know. I hope it drives him just as crazy as he's made me. It's all his fault anyway.  
She let her hand drift over her breast, then down and push the hem of the nightie up. Her fingers dipped into her dripping core — oh, this wasn't going to take long — and she gave a low moan. Her fingers moved faster, ghosting over her clit and pumping into her center. She imagined it was his hand, his cock, his MOUTH — OH! With a quiet gasp, she came.

From the next room she heard a thump. A thump suspiciously like someone falling out of bed.

"You okay in there?" she called.

"Fine. I'm, uh, fine. Just fine."

"Good night, then."

"Good night, Rose."

She smiled and closed her eyes to drift off into a very satisfied slumber.


End file.
